


Heal Me

by AbyssOfMind



Category: The 100
Genre: AU, Angst, Army, Civil War, Clarke's life is about to change... again, F/F, Guess who's gonna heal who here, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Lexa's back from the military, Love, PTSD, Reunion, Romance, The 100 - Freeform, clarke is a doctor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbyssOfMind/pseuds/AbyssOfMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa returns from war after a critical injury, but her battle scars extend further than just the bullet marks on her skin. She’s survived the war, but what about the aftermath? When past and present collide and Clarke sees Lexa again unexpectedly after a long and agonizing year and a half—can there be reconciliation? Can the same lips which bruised her, also heal her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Takes As Long As It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> This story is AU. There are no “Grounders”. The armies don’t use swords or anything like that. Let's call it "modern"? Just felt like clarifying because I get a little paranoid when I write things. I want them to make sense to everyone. Also, I use the same names as in the show to specify the people in conflict. Imagine two very big countries, in our case Azgeda and Trigeda, at war. It will explained further later on.
> 
> Moreover, I like to consider Polis, the capital, common “peaceful” ground untouched by the war. This story isn’t going to be much about battle as it is going to be about its protagonists’ healing after the damage it has caused to them.  
> I am no doctor (nor a military expert, for that matter), so I'll try to research the medical (or army) stuff more before posting, or at least, try to have them make sense. If any of you are more familiar with the field and would like to shed some light to my cluelessness, feel free to contact me. :P
> 
> My native tongue is not English. So, if there's any incorrect grammar/typos—please let me know so that I can correct them! I hate making errors. For that, I will probably have read the chapter at least twenty times before you guys get to read it for the first. *Insert sigh*
> 
> I am thinking about writing the next chapter in Clarke's POV, but I am not certain yet.  
> With that said, I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Thank you in advance.

_Thud._

The loud bump of the stamp against wood brought Lexa back from her tormenting thoughts. The sound of crumpling paper infiltrated her hearing just before the Officer handed her the discharge papers.

“You did well, Woods.” Lexa merely nodded her head at the man’s words, accepting the piece of paper that signified yet another end in her life of endless endings.

“Thank you, Sir. May we meet again, Sir.” The brunette folded the paper, sliding it into one of the pockets of her duffel bag that lay onto her lap, before turning around in her wheelchair and taking off.

It had been just over two weeks since the doctors at the military health facility told her she wouldn’t be able to walk properly again, and just a bit over a month since the surgeries repaired the damage to her spine, but failed to restore her one-hundred-percent ability to use her right leg. According to them, that would never be possible. She would have to do a lot of physiotherapy to achieve an eighty-five percent recovery, but she would have to learn how to live with the limp it would leave behind.

However, the limp was the last thing Lexa was worried about.

As she wheeled herself outside, she found Gustus waiting for her, leaning back against the hood of a military jeep with a small smile playing along his lips. His beard had been trimmed, and he was out of his uniform.

“Commander,” he greeted Lexa with a courteous nod, using the nickname he’d given her back when the two first became acquainted. She was always so stern, so ‘by-the-book’, and Gustus found that amusing. The more weeks passed, the more he got to find out what really lay beneath her steely exterior. She was just doing her duty. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”

Lexa barely acknowledged his existence. Instead, she moved towards the door, pushed her duffel bag off of her lap and onto the ground, clutched the armrests of the chair and lifted herself up on her good leg. She sucked in a breath when pain shot throughout her entire body, threatening to paralyze her—but she was too stubborn to give up. She opened the door and let herself in.

 _It takes as long as it takes,_ she reminded herself.

She pulled out her shades from her pocket, putting them on. The sun was shining way too brightly for her taste. It was sunny when she got shot. In fact, the sun’s evil glare was blinding that day. But that wasn’t the day she truly stopped loving the sun. That day was when she watched the girl she loved walk away from her, her blonde hair shining under the sun’s bright rays. It was beautiful. _Tragic_ , but beautiful. That was what she was—Clarke. She was like a beautiful morning in summer; her eyes as blue as the sky, her hair golden like the eyes of the sun. Her voice was the gentle breeze that brought relief from the summer’s heat.

Clarke was that. She was Lexa’s relief, her solace.

And she was _gone_.

The loud thud of the door closing made Lexa flinch; startled. Gustus had slipped inside without her noticing. He was about to start the car when Lexa blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

His hand stilled upon the key, his head shifting to face Lexa, who wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t be. You take care of yourself now, Lexa. _Live_ now.”

Lexa’s eyes fell shut. Neither of them spoke. They simply sat in peace for a few minutes before Gustus twisted the key, and the engine roared to life.

* * *

 

A soft grunt spilled from Lexa’s lips as her leg pressed painfully against the closed door. She had been haste in her movements, which soon proved to have been a very bad idea.

“Here, let me help.” Gustus offered, pulling the door open and reaching out to her with his hand. The kind gesture earned him a not-so-friendly look from the female, who continued to push herself until she managed to step outside and stabilize herself on her left foot. The light tingle remained in her right limb—sometimes she thought it would never go away—but she convinced herself it was manageable.

_It could be worse, right?_

“Thank you, though,” she took a step, lifting a hand to stop Gustus once he reached for the wheelchair. “No. Give me the crutches. I’m not sitting on that thing for another _second_ , Gustus. I can walk. I’m _not_ a cripple.” She gritted her teeth as she spoke the last sentence. It all had happened so fast— _too_ fast. One moment she was one of the most skilled sergeants of the department, and the next she was on the ground, lying down in a pool of her own blood. Her approach had been, from the beginning, unwavering. Head over heart. There was no time for hesitation during war. One tiny flicker of it and everything could be blown to pieces. And although she never hesitated to squeeze the trigger when it came to the enemy, it was her loyalty that almost got her killed.

“I’ll get your stuff inside, then.” Gustus had been released for the week, assigned to drive Lexa back home. It wasn’t his job to babysit her, and Lexa hated how he kept wanting to take care of her when she didn’t deserve it.

She drew in a deep breath as she made her way towards the staircase that led to the porch of her house. It was just six stairs, but they looked like a challenge at the moment. Placing the crutches down, she gripped the rail and hopped on the first step, allowing herself a moment of rest before doing the same for the next one, and the next.

_It takes as long as it takes._

She pushed the door open. After being away for over a year everything felt foreign. At first, the thought of returning home was what kept her going. It wasn’t like she was _forced_ to join the military. She had wanted to do it for herself. She wanted to _give_ something towards ending this war, and defend her own. However, adjusting—as expected—had been hard. There were times where it felt like a boulder pressing down into her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Though there were good times, too, Lexa’s thoughts always wandered to the only thing that helped her make sense of the mess that was her mind. The focal point that shed light upon the doubt that often haunted her.

There was one thing Lexa loved more than her people. And that was Clarke. No matter what storm life send barreling towards them, Clarke and Lexa would _always_ get through it. They would always survive it. That was the plan. But plans never worked out.

Gustus moved past the brunette, carrying her duffel bag with over his shoulder effortlessly, as if it weighed no more than a feather. Gustus was tall and buff. He exuded strength. If one didn’t know him, they would probably be afraid to approach him. His solemn expression, strict eyes and pursed lips gave the impression that he hated everyone, but deep down, he had a very loyal heart. “All’s ready.” His gruff voice alerted Lexa, who was slowly, but steadily, following behind.

“Thank you, Gustus.” She let her eyes roam over her surroundings, taking them in. Every painting of Clarke’s she once hanged on the wall was still there. The little wooden chess pieces Lexa liked to collect still decorated the shelves of the large bookcase in the living room, though they were blanketed by dust. She made a mental note to clean when she felt less physically drained. She let herself slump on the couch, closing her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, the buff man was passing through the door with the crutches firmly in his grasp.

“No problem, Woods.” He gifted a rare smile. “I’ll leave the chair in the garage. Keep in touch, Commander. It has been great knowing you.”

“If by ‘knowing’, you mean being my bitch, then yes, Gustus. I’ve certainly enjoyed ordering you around.” Lexa felt a grin creep up onto her lips, allowing herself a moment of uninterrupted enjoyment before reality sank in again. “I will keep in touch, Gustus. Take care of yourself.” She didn’t get up from the couch to bid him farewell, but he leaned in to place a tender kiss upon her forehead before making his exit.

Lexa sighed deeply now that nobody could see her. Not only did she feel physically exhausted, but mentally as well. She was asking herself questions that she didn’t have the answers for, and it was driving her crazy.

_What am I going to do now? What about Clarke? Is she still around? Do I want her to see me like this? Can I even face her after the way things ended? No. No, I can’t._

The beginning of a headache gnawed at her temples, so she closed her eyes. She just needed to get some sleep. She hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in over a year. It didn’t take too long until she felt her consciousness start to fade, the light chirping of birds lulling her to sleep.

_Click. Click._

With a startle, Lexa jolted upwards into a straight position, reaching out to grab a crutch to use as a weapon for whomever made the bad call of intruding her house. A moment later, Anya stepped in, her eyes widening at the sight of Lexa holding the crutch against her. “Seriously?”

The brunette’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she pushed her crutch aside, huffing softly. “I thought you might be a burglar. I’m tired—don’t judge.”

Anya’s chuckle filled the otherwise dull room with some joy. Lexa couldn’t help but release a soft laugh herself. “Nah, just me.” The blonde, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a fitting shirt, moved towards the couch and sank back into it. “I heard you were back. News spreads fast.”

“I bet it does.” She sighed.

“Are you okay, Lexa?” Anya’s eyes were warm, brimming with concern. Lexa couldn’t help but turn away from her. When Anya looked at her like that, she felt like she was being stripped bare and exposed. Except that now that she was in this position, struggling with herself, it was worse. She didn’t want people’s pity. She didn’t want their lingering stares as she tried her damn hardest to move without wincing.

“I’m fine, Anya.” Lexa nodded in affirmation, hoping it would convince Anya better than it did herself.

Anya paused, averting her gaze briefly as if she were trying to collect her thoughts and put them into words. “You do know that Clarke’s still in Polis, don't you?” She blurted out instead.

_So much for not talking about Clarke._

The brunette’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. During her time in the army, whenever she got the chance to contact Anya, the blonde would always tiptoe around the subject without actually giving anything out. Lexa was smart, of course. She knew. She just chose not to take the bait and ask further. She had a duty to focus on. But now Anya was practically throwing the conversation into her face straightforwardly, making it impossible for her to dodge.

“I know,” she said simply. “I just don’t see how that is any of my business anymore.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth, and she swallowed.

“I think you should go talk to her,” Anya spoke softly. “You both owe each other an explanation, if you ask me.”

“That is not an option, Anya.” Her words were laced with finality. “I don’t want to talk about it. I do, however, have a favor to ask of you.”

Sighing, Anya nodded. “What is it?”

“I need you to drive me to the hospital. I have to get some X-rays done. See, I’d drive myself, but my kind of vehicle doesn’t have an engine. Rolling away in my wheelchair wouldn’t get me too far.” She let out a humorless laugh, pushing herself up before her friend could protest.

* * *

 

The next couple of hours were spent talking plans of recovery with her assigned doctor. Lexa couldn’t wait to get the Hell out of there and go back home to get some sleep. Her tiredness was creeping back after the effects of the caffeine she had consumed wore off.

“Physiotherapy is scheduled for Monday, Wednesday and Friday each week. I’ll get you in contact with your therapist soon. Just take a few days to rest up. You’re going to need all the strength you can get.” The doctor wore a smile as he spoke. A small, sympathetic one. Lexa couldn’t bring herself to return it, bobbing her head slightly instead.

Shifting uncomfortably, she flicked her gaze over to the door, peeking through the small window just to catch glimpse of blonde curls bouncing off the back of a female. The sun shining through the window gave it a golden glow, and Lexa could’ve sworn she’d seen hair like that before. How could she ever forget?

Anya had already confirmed _that_ person was still around. Could it be her? Lexa’s eyebrows creased, a slight frown claiming her features.

“—and that is how we’re going to proceed.”

Her gaze snapped up, her confused green eyes meeting the doctor’s deep brown gaze. She had lost herself in her train of thought, and as a result, she hadn’t heard a word coming out of the man’s lips.

“You didn’t hear a thing, did you?” The doctor’s smile widened.

“I’m sorry, doctor. I got… distracted for a moment.”

“Yeah, they all do when the medical terms come in,” A soft chuckle fled his lips. “Don’t worry about it. To put it simply, you need to complete your cycle of physiotherapy. We’ll be running a few tests in between, and hopefully, you will have completed your recovery within the next six months. It’s not going to be easy, Ms. Woods. But I think you’ll do just fine.”

“I know there’s no chance I’m ever going to get rid of the limp.”

“I can’t answer that yet. I’ll need to see your progress first.”

“They’ve already told me so back at the health facility where I got the emergency surgery done on me. Let’s not kid each other, doctor. I can take the truth. I am a big girl.”

“You fought fearlessly for your people. I’m aware of that fact,” his smile suddenly disappeared, his next words hitting Lexa with the full impact of their truth. “Now it’s time for you to do the same thing for yourself.”

* * *

 

Lexa had asked Anya to go busy herself with something and wait for her call before coming to pick her up. She was in the process of exiting the hospital when her stomach twisted in a hundred knots at the sound of _her_ voice calling out to her.

“Lexa?”


	2. Bittersweet Reassurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to update. I've already written 1k words of the next chapter, in which we will finally find out how Clarke and Lexa met. I've not decided if I want the entire chapter to be a series of flashbacks, but you can let me know if you'd like to see that. I figure it would be better to get the backstory out, so that the current story can flow easier and without confusion. Let me know what you think! Also, I promise the political stuff is going to end soon. You can ignore it if you wish, and/or ask me about it if you have any questions.
> 
> Big thanks to @dreaming_wide_awake for double-checking the chapter for any errors.

_The headlines of the weekly paper_ Grounded _read of more death, yet again. Over a hundred casualties of war, sixty-four of which were confirmed dead, some missing, and the rest were being treated in Polis. Beneath, there was a list of the people who had fought and died bravely in the battlefield. Clarke’s breath hitched in the back of her throat as the painful memory of her once reading the list in hopes of not seeing the name there, came rushing back. She remembered the spark of hope as she read another name that wasn’t it, she remembered the anxiety of knowing there were more names to read and that the possibility of tragedy in the future was still there, but what she remembered most vividly—it had been soared into her veins by that point—was the pain she felt when she finally read the name. The war was a very unpredictable thing, and although Clarke knew death would likely be answered by death, she couldn’t help but harbor the tiniest flicker of hope for her beloved._

_That’s the funny thing about hope. It can either keep you going, or it can completely shatter you._

_When Clarke lifted the mug to take a sip of her coffee, it was cold. She had been so absorbed in reading every single name on the list that she had completely forgotten about everything else. She swallowed a large gulp regardless, hoping the sugar in her drink would wash away the bitterness that coated her tongue. A tiny droplet dripped onto the thin paper, drenching and dissolving it. She took a deep breath, her thumb sweeping across the underside of her eye to feel more liquid roll down. She wiped it away, biting into her lip to stifle a sob._

_The sound of soft footsteps forced Clarke to become more frantic in her attempt to get herself together. A pair of slim arms soon slid around her waist, the warmth of her partner’s body enveloping and comforting her. She let out a relieved sigh, burrowing back into Lexa’s arms._

_“Clarke.” Lexa’s warm breath fanned over Clarke’s ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Good morning.” The brunette captured her earlobe between plumb lips, giving it a tender tug and suckle before pulling back and pressing a kiss against the back of Clarke’s head. The blonde’s mind was spinning, her thoughts a mixture of grief and Lexa. Admittedly, mostly Lexa. It was hard to focus when her green-eyed Devil was up to no good._

_Clarke relaxed, turning around into Lexa’s arms and placing her head against her chest. The steady rhythm of her beating heart calmed her, bringing her a sense of security. Lexa was there, safe and sound, and as long as she had her, she could cope with all hardships and the hectic life her work forced her into. “Good morning.” She murmured, a little pout forming on her lips when Lexa pulled back with a frown._

_“You’ve been crying.” The brunette stated matter-of-factly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on each of Clarke’s closed eyelids. “Why?”_

_The blonde reveled in the tenderness of her girlfriend’s actions, sliding her own arms around Lexa’s slender waist to pull her closer. “I was reading the paper,” she admitted. “So many people have died over there, Lexa. Too many injured, too. I will probably have to treat them when I go into work tomorrow.” Her voice was small, sad. “It brought back memories.”_

_Clarke didn’t have to say anything else; Lexa knew. She felt her squeeze her reassuringly, keeping her wrapped up into her arms as silence befell. They let themselves enjoy the moment of quietness before Clarke broke it with a question. “You don’t have training with Lincoln today, do you?”_

_“No. I get to spend the entire day with you.” Lexa’s smile was infectious. Clarke couldn’t help but feel the corners of her own mouth twitch._

_“Oh, thank God.” It had been two months since the two of them got a proper day’s (or night’s) rest together. Their schedules had been so out of sync. Lexa was working at the police department. For a while now, her shifts began at night, when Clarke was peacefully asleep in their bed. Alone. Clarke’s shifts at the hospital started early in the morning, just when Lexa came back home exhausted from being up all night. They only had time for a brief chat and a kiss before they had to go their separate ways. Sundays were usually a day off, unless Clarke was called in for an emergency, though the past three Sundays were spent with Lexa and Lincoln training the rookies, which had been making Lexa grumpier than usual._

_Lexa snagged Clarke’s cup for a quick drink, but her nose wrinkled when she felt the cold liquid on her tongue. “Let me fix that for you.” She walked towards the sink and emptied the cold liquid into the basin. Clarke hated the taste of reheated coffee—for some reason it tasted differently to her—so Lexa began the process of making her a new cup._

_Clarke slid off the stool and moved towards her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “Lexa,” she breathed out her name. Sometimes she just liked saying it. It made her feel safe._

_“Yes, baby?” Lexa turned to place a soft kiss on Clarke’s temple, which she eagerly accepted with closed eyes._

_“Can we just get back to bed? I’m tired all of a sudden.” Her voice was soft, tired. With a small nod, Lexa agreed._

_They spent the rest of the morning and afternoon cuddling in bed, falling asleep, waking to kiss and succumbing to sleep again._

_Clarke stirred awake slightly, feeling the warmth of Lexa’s body pressed next to her. She opened her eyes sleepily, only to be gifted with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Lexa. Her dark curls cascaded messily along her shoulders and spread over the pillow. Her arm was stretched under Clarke’s head, pulling her closer instinctively whenever she tried to shift away. She was the most beautiful thing Clarke had ever seen, and it was every little thing that reminded her how lucky she was every day._

_The blonde trailed her fingertips along Lexa’s collarbone tenderly, tracing random patterns against soft skin. The delicate action had the female shivering lightly as she was pulled from slumber, a groggy smile reaching her lips. Her eyes remained closed as she stretched out her limbs, willing away the tension of inactivity._

_“Hey sleepyhead,” Clarke’s breath spilled along Lexa’s bare neck with the huskily whispered words. She pressed a kiss on her jaw, slowly working a path down her throat. Lexa responded with a soft hum of appreciation, her back arching slightly the lower Clarke’s lips trailed._

_“Clarke,” The name was spoken breathlessly. “wait.”_

_The urgency in Lexa’s voice made Clarke freeze just above her navel, looking up to meet her girlfriend’s worried eyes. Something was wrong. “Lexa, what is it?”_

_Clarke watched her features shift as she bit her lip. If she weren’t filled with dread, she would have found it sexy. “I’ve enlisted.” The brunette blurted out._

_Clarke’s heart dropped to her stomach._

* * *

Clarke had just exited the room of her latest patient when she remembered she had forgotten to pick up some paperwork from her car.

“Damn it,” she muttered, taking her eyes off the corridor for a moment to look down at her pocket as she fumbled with the car keys that were stuck. A bit of cursing and a yank later, she managed to pull them out with minimal damage to her work uniform (thank God, because replacing it was a pain in the ass).

Dark, bouncing curls and the back of a woman limping her way towards the exit. That was the sight she was greeted with once her eyes lifted. It could have fooled her—if she hadn’t known better. The feeling of awful familiarity that flooded her veins and made her stomach churn; she knew it was just a trick of her mind. That person couldn’t possibly be there, because she had _left_ her. She was _dead_. At least, all evidence had led her to that conclusion. After reports of Lexa going missing during an ambush, Clarke was _heartbroken._ She stopped eating and taking care of herself to the point of having to take leave from work due to her frequently fainting. It had taken her months and a great deal of encouragement from Raven and Octavia, and still it wasn’t what convinced her to get her act together.

Clarke had woken up before the sun was up, unable to find sleep again. The spot that Lexa had once occupied was empty; cold, and because of that, she often slept on the couch. Lexa’s absence was so _present_ that she felt like she was suffocating. She’d visited her father’s grave that night, reading the honors engraved across his tombstone.

_Brave._

_Fearless._

_Proud._

_Never forgotten._

Those words described Lexa, too, and Clarke couldn’t choke back the tears that spilled. She had cried that night. She had cried and cursed Lexa for doing this to her, and then she took it all back because, God, she loved her still. She’d always love her, even after the way she took her heart and stomped on it—she loved her even more, because Lexa was the only person that fully understood, accepted and cherished her for who she was. She was the person who grounded her and guided her towards the direction she always wanted to take, but never quite knew how to. Lexa simply put everything into perspective, ever since their first meeting. Lexa would have wanted her to push through.

After that night, she had moved out of their house and back to her mother’s.

Could it be that person?

“Lexa?” Clarke felt so small when the words left her lips. She could barely recognize her voice; so hesitant, so _fearful._

The woman stilled, but didn’t turn around.

With every second passing, Clarke’s heart drummed in her chest. She felt her stomach do many uncomfortable things, and for a brief moment she even thought she might faint.

“Clarke,” The woman returned without turning around to face her, and although her voice was familiar, it lacked the emotion it used to possess back when things weren’t so bad. In fact, it didn’t hold any emotion at all.

“Lexa,” Clarke repeated, unable to believe her eyes. She stumbled closer to her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. She felt Lexa’s flinch, and it gutted her that the touch that once soothed her, probably made her uncomfortable now.

“Clarke,” the voice was strained now, but still no reaction as Clarke moved to stand in front of Lexa.

She searched her eyes, her features, desperately seeking for any sign that this might not be real and she might be dreaming. Clarke’s hand came to cup Lexa’s cheek, and she saw her swallow hard. The silence grew heavy as her thumb stroked her cheek, tracing her cheekbone and the line of her jaw tenderly. It was a face she remembered so well, for it had haunted her in her sleep for so long. A face she’d never thought she’d see ever again. Yet here she was. _Alive._

Words bubbled up in Clarke’s throat, but she found herself unable to speak them. Instead, she threw herself at Lexa, wrapping her arms so tightly around her; as if she were holding onto her own life, refusing to let go. Her eyes welled up, emotion flooding her, overwhelming her. She crumbled like a fractured limb that’s been standing on its own without support for far too long. Tears spilled from her eyes while she sobbed, choking out words she thought she’d never speak. “I—I thought I’d n—never see you again!”

She felt the rise of Lexa’s chest against hers, the inhalation of a shaky breath and lithe arms around her waist, and it was as if the past year and a half had never happened. All the pain and suffering she had endured dissolved into nothing because Lexa was _alive_ , and that meant more to Clarke than any petty grudge she ever held against her for leaving. Would she be mad later? Absolutely. But right now, she reveled in the comforting knowledge that she was safe.

“I’m right here.” Lexa’s soft words pulled at Clarke’s heartstrings. Three words, but they meant everything.

“After hearing about the ambush… I thought—“

“I’m _fine_. I’m okay.” She soothed, her palm moving over Clarke’s back reassuringly. “Clarke, I have to leave now.”

“No, I—”

“Anya’s waiting for me.” The words were snappier than Clarke would’ve liked and made her heart hurt. It didn’t help that Lexa’s arms had long dropped to her sides. She was only waiting for Clarke to let go so she could leave. “Please, Clarke.” Lexa was pleading now and getting twitchy.

Clarke released her, stepping back. She didn’t meet her eyes again after that. She shakily wiped the tears from her eyes and breathed until she regained her composure—or whatever of it remained anyway. “I’m sorry for the waterworks. I’m glad you’re okay, Lexa.” She managed a smile to go with the words, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “See you around.”

“See you,” were Lexa’s last words before she walked away.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Clarke saw Lexa at the hospital. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since. She knew she had hurt herself; she had seen the way Lexa struggled to walk. She saw her trying not to use the crutch so much because her pride wouldn’t allow her to show any weakness, even though the corridor was pretty much empty and no one would see her. It angered Clarke that she’d put herself through even more suffering, but she knew Lexa. She was as stubborn as she was proud and kind and loving and so many other things.

She was on her lunch break now. Raven was sitting beside her, munching on a slice of French toast while Clarke chugged down coffee as if it were her sole source of life. Technically, it might as well have been, because she had pulled a twenty-four hour shift without a wink of sleep. The hospital was full to the brim with trauma patients in contrast to the past couple of weeks that had been calmer than usual. Clarke was stressed to the core, and her ex’s sudden appearance didn’t help matters. She had dated Finn for four months before she realized she couldn’t do it anymore—she couldn’t pretend. He was nice and all, but Clarke’s heart never truly recovered from the loss of Lexa. When Lexa left, a piece of Clarke’s heart was taken with her. A large one. Unfortunately, Clarke realized too late that she couldn’t give to Finn something that she no longer had to give. He deserved better, so she ended it. It had hurt him more than it had hurt her and she knew asking to remain friends would be too selfish of her. So instead, she reassured him that they could work on their friendship once he started to feel better. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to be more, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

After two months of absence, he had returned with a vengeance and more convinced than ever to get her back.

“Of course I told him it’s not happening,” Clarke said, shaking her head. “I can’t do it and I don’t want to hurt him again, but it’s a lose-lose situation. He’s going to get hurt anyway.”

Raven seemed to hesitate, tip-toeing around her words. “I guess Lexa being back doesn’t help his case either…”

“It’s not about Lexa,” Clarke was quick to say, but she knew it was a lie. She knew that Raven was aware of that, too. It had always been about Lexa and Clarke’s inability to let her go. A sigh fled her lips. “I just… I just can’t be in a relationship with anyone right now.”

“It’s been a year and a half since you and Lexa ended it, Clarke. You have to be happy at some point, don’t you think?”

“I can be happy on my own,” Clarke shrugged, picking up a fry out of her friend’s plate. “Not to mention, I have no time on my hands. Dating was a bad idea to begin with.”

“I know, I know. It’s been, what? Four years now? Sometimes it feels this war is never going to end.” Raven sounded defeated.

“It’s been five, actually.” Clarke corrected with a strained voice.

Trigeda and Azgeda had been at each other’s throats for too long. The two countries had once been one. Though due to political conflict between President Thelonious Jaha and then candidate Nia Queen, the countries split into two. At first, the vote had shown Jaha as a winner of the presidency with a solid 51.3% of the votes. However, Nia’s fanatical supporters wouldn’t let it rest. They went on strikes and wreaked havoc throughout the country. Planned acts of vandalism, aggressive protests and so on. Jaha came to a compromise that would—hopefully—prevent Civil War from happening. The people voted for splitting the country into two, and that is what had happened.

It didn’t take long for Nia’s greed to put a wedge between the newly-separated countries. For better or for worse, Trigeda’s geographical location gave it advantages over Azgeda. It was surrounded by ocean and had a large supply of oil. Its location allowed easy trade with other neighboring countries. According to Thelonious Jaha, Nia Queen had refused compromise and insisted on becoming the ruler of both Trigeda and Azgeda—without merging them again. Clarke knew what would happen if such scenario came to be. Nia Queen was cruel in her leadership, but hid under well-spoken words and a deceitful smile. She was a dictator with a hunger for power. Unfortunately, her beautiful lies and false promises of a brighter future had worked and managed to fool half the population of the previously merged country.

Thelonious Jaha would not stand for it. He realized what a mistake it was to give her that kind of power and chose the next course of action with a heavy heart and regret (as he’d claimed five years ago in his announcement interview). Clarke hated politics. More than anything, she hated the fact that so many people had lost their lives because of one person’s greed. She hated that her father was one of those people to die for the sins of the Ice Queen.

Clarke glanced at her wristwatch, checking the time. “I’ve gotta head back in. I still have a couple of hours to go before I can go back home.”

“I’m meeting Bellamy at the mall in half an hour. You sure you still up for tonight? It looks like you could use some sleep, dude.” Raven gave Clarke a once-over with worried eyes.

“I’ve been the worst best friend lately. I want to spend some time with you and the rest of the gang. Please don’t argue with me on this. We’ll order pizza, watch a couple of movies and I can get some shuteye after.”

“But you look like shit, Clarke,” Raven said bluntly. “No offense.”

Clarke tilted her head, glaring at her friend. “None. Taken.” She growled, but it was more playful than hostile.

“Fine,” Raven huffed. “I’m only allowing this because you’ve had a hard day and I don’t want to make you feel like a loser when I win the argument.”

“Oh, shut up.” Clarke laughed heartily.

“Make me, bitch.” Raven grinned as she pulled her chair back and blew her friend a kiss.

* * *

The next couple of hours dragged. Clarke was walking down the hallway, holding a couple of x-ray scans that needed orthopedic consultation. When a nurse informed her that the orthopedic surgeon was at the physio department discussing a patient, Clarke didn’t think much of it. She went there, not expecting anything.

When she reached the door, she felt her body still as she peeked through the window. Her heart felt heavier and her legs disconnected from the rest of her body, refusing to budge. Inside the room, Lexa was gripping the supportive railings, taking tentative steps forward. Clarke could see the struggle in the way her lips pursed tightly and her nose scrunched up in agony. She suddenly felt like she was invading a moment that she no longer had a right to be a part of. Lexa wasn’t hers anymore, and therefore, she had no excuse for the worry that, all of a sudden, took residence in her heart.

She turned around instead, taking a seat on a nearby chair and waited, x-rays still in hand, but clutched a little tighter.

About what felt like an hour, the door opened and the doctor walked out first.

“Griffin, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, actually. I have some x-rays you need to check out. It’s a bad break.”

The surgeon’s eyes narrowed as he inspected the pictures. Clarke imagined his brain spinning with possible solutions and strategies to tackle the issue. “I see. Who’s the assigned doctor?”

“Griffin,” Clarke said, quickly correcting herself. “The _other_ one.”

“Alright, then, Dr. Griffin, I shall consult with your mother and we will fix this patient.” He gave a cheerful smile, a courteous salute before he turned to leave.

“Thank you, Dr. Kane.” Clarke could only give a slight smile. She hated it when people connected her to her mother. Though it was a small price to pay for working in the same hospital as her mother, Clarke considered it huge. She wanted people to know how hard she had worked for this, and not think that she came this far just because her mother held a high position in the hospital.

The door creaked open again—Clarke hadn’t realized she had been standing still by herself—and Lexa rolled out, seated in her wheelchair. She looked in Clarke’s direction but quickly averted her eyes and started to wheel herself away.

“Lexa—“ Clarke called out, running after her. “—wait!”

Lexa stopped. Clarke heard her sigh and ignored the disappointment that bubbled up inside of her, plastering a friendly smile across her mouth instead. “Hey,” she said as she came to stand in front of her ex. “The guys and I are having a movie night tonight. Would you like to come by, too? There’s going to be pizz—“

“I don’t think so, Clarke.” Lexa’s voice cut her off harshly.

“—Oh.”

“I mean,” Lexa started again, a bit softer this time, “I’m very tired from physio. Maybe I can join you another time?”

Clarke swallowed subtly, but continued to smile as if nothing had happened—as if Lexa’s rejection hadn’t just torn at the slowly healing wound in her chest. “That sounds like a plan.”

“It was good to see you, Clarke.” The brunette gave her a smile—a small, but genuine one. The first smile in such a long time. Seeing it, Clarke finally realized how much she had actually missed Lexa. Her own smile widened, reaching her eyes this time.

Lexa started to leave again.

“Lexa!” Clarke placed a hand on her shoulder quickly, stopping her. “Call me if you need anything. The number’s the same.”

“I _know_ ,” Lexa muttered, and Clarke almost didn’t hear her, but she did, and the realization hit her hard. Lexa _knew_ , which meant she had called her before.

Nothing else was said; Clarke watched Lexa leave, but it wasn’t with a heavy heart this time. Everything clicked together and all those unknown calls she had received over the past year and a half in the middle of the night, finally made sense to her.


End file.
